Years later, a young woman stands beneath the mango tree at the Bandas' compound.
She is tall, with her grandmother's eyes and her father's stubborn jaw. She holds a letter in her hand—a letter from her grandfather, Mulenga, written just before he passed.
My dear Thandiwe,
I never got to tell you how much I loved you. How much I loved our children. How much I loved the land.
But I want you to know—I am at peace now. The land remembers. And so do I.
Live well. Love deeply. Forgive often.
Your father, Mulenga
She folds the letter, tucks it into her pocket, and looks up at the mango tree.
Its branches sway gently in the breeze.
And for the first time in her life, she feels like she belongs.